Malicious Prince: A Reverse Harem Romance (Territorial Mates Book 3)
Page 7
“That must’ve been difficult for you.”
“Hmm.” Lily bows her head and rocks twice, her angst growing. Then just as quickly as it rises, she fends it off by going motionless. It’s like she’s afraid to feel anything, because then she might feel too much—more than she’s ready for just yet. I can’t say I blame her, but it’s a sad sight to see from this angle. I long to hold her, but I wager she wouldn’t want that right now. Just being near feels like the right move—there to grab onto if she needs me.
When she finally speaks, she’s so quiet, I have to lean in to listen. “I don’t think the fae are weak for not sending their people to Neutral Territory. I think they’re strategic in keeping the green for themselves. Part of the punishment of living in Neutral Territory is that not even nature wants to exist in a place like that. If a fae was knowingly exiled there, they would make Neutral Territory beautiful, which would lessen the punishment of the criminals there.” I kneel beside her, watching her throat constrict as her nerves spike. “It was painful, being separated from nature for most of my life. I was constantly cold on the inside, like I didn’t belong anywhere.”
I band my arm around her back and rub her bicep. “You belong here with me, yeah?” Her skin is chilly. Why does she never complain about these things? I need to get better at anticipating the needs she’ll never voice. I don’t have a jacket to offer her. What a shoddy husband I’m turning out to be.
“Salem has a girlfriend,” she blurts out, her eyes fixated on the basil leaves as if they’ve betrayed her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
I can’t help my frown. “Other than you? No, he doesn’t.”
“He does. Justice told me he’s been in love with this other woman for years. It explains why he never made a move. Why he set me up with you and Prince Alexavier. I feel so stupid. I would never do that to another woman.”
She’s calling Alex by his full name and title now? I guess that’s not unexpected, but it’s significant to me. Lily’s in serious pain, no matter how quiet she tries to keep it. And now this mystery fictional girlfriend of Salem’s? I pull her closer, my arms around her to shoulder at least a portion of all that’s weighing her down. “Blue eyes, it’s not true. Maybe there are things Salem tells Justice that he doesn’t tell Alex and me, but not something like that. And he wouldn’t lie to you. Talk to Salem about it when he gets back.”
“Back from telling his girlfriend he’s dutybound to marry me? That sucks! That’s where he is now, you know. Justice told me. Said he claims he’s checking on the north border, but really he goes off to visit her instead.”
I have no idea what she’s talking about, but I intend to get to the bottom of whatever makes her look so very despondent. When she’s collected herself, we walk around the gardens, taking our time so she can touch every petal that strikes her fancy. At her first yawn, I’m judicious in calling it a night. I don’t want her dragging tomorrow.
There aren’t many people in the mansion. Most of the servants avoid the two of us like the plague, skittering away every time we turn down a hallway. Vera’s the only one salty enough to stand her ground, as if we’re some big threat. “I saw ye,” she says with a sneer on her lips. “I saw ye cursing the ground out there!”
Lily stiffens, and I can feel her fear rising up that she’ll be tried for something she can’t possibly do. “I didn’t do anything like that!”
“Stay out of my gardens, lass! Ye aren’t welcome here.”
I cluck my tongue at Vera. “Now, now. Is that any way to talk to Prince Salem’s future bride?”
She shudders every time I mention that, which is like a gift that keeps on giving. I chuckle at her shiver of disgust and tip my imaginary hat to her as we keep moving down the hall, away from the confrontation.
My bedroom in Salem’s mansion is the usual bare stone room, but I’ve got a stack of comic books on the bedside I refuse to be embarrassed by. Harris and Melinda never allowed such childish things at home, so Salem bought some for me years ago and stores them here for me to enjoy whenever I visit.
Lily lays down in her jeans and long-sleeved navy t-shirt, and it’s then I realize she has nothing. My wife doesn’t have a single possession in this land except the clothes on her back. The Princess of Drexdenberg doesn’t have pajamas.
I keep a small stack of clothes here, and waste no time in pulling out my softest t-shirt and flannel pants. “These will be too big, but they’ve got to be more comfortable than what you’ve been traveling in.”
“Thanks. That’s real nice of you.” She fingers the material, and I’m instantly ashamed. She’s impressed by flannel. My wife thinks men’s pajamas are a brilliant gift.
“You deserve better than that. I’ll make sure you get what you need in the morning.”
She turns the pants over in her hands. “I’ve got you,” she says simply. “What more could there be?”
“So much more,” I promise.
Though we’ve not traded more than kisses, I don’t want it to always be that way. So I make the decision not to leave for the bathroom to get changed for bed. My jeans and shirt come off and puddle on the floor while she watches me with curious eyes.
11
Home Away from Home
Destino
“Has no man ever changed in front of you before, or are you looking at me like that because you’re just that enthralled with my body?” I love teasing a blush out of her, though it might not be the best time for such things. Then again, perhaps I’m the perfect distraction from her melancholy. The shock of pink on those pale cheeks is just about the best sight in the world. So many things are shared between me, Alex and Salem, but that blush is only for me.
My eyes are glued to her form when she slowly slides her shirt over her head. I should watch and enjoy the show from where I am so I don’t spook her, but I can’t stay away. My feet move on their own, closing the gap between us in three long strides. She squeaks against my lips when my mouth crashes on hers, but she doesn’t pull back. Her fingers dig into my bare uninjured shoulder, pressing her breasts against me while I topple us backwards onto the bed with her atop me. We make quick work of tearing her jeans down her legs. Her skin against mine is just about the best feeling in the world, so I wrap her around me in every way I can, cocooning myself in her body.
Her lips are so soft, her skin perfumed with her natural lily and peach scent. Everything about her is a gift that slowly unravels the more I stroke and tease the tantalizing parts of her. I want exactly this, only this, and finally it’s just us. I can enjoy the woman I’ve been rapidly growing addicted to. I can take my time exploring her skin. Her flesh seems to glow with its own light that always guides me to safety. To the edge of danger. To where I belong.
She’s desperate for connection tonight, clinging tight to my body while we roll around in the sheets. It’s like she’s afraid if she lets go, she’ll be swept away into some abyss. She thinks I won’t be able to find her there, but I will. I can always find her. I snatch her lower lip between my teeth and pull, drawing a moan from her as her uninjured leg loops around mine. I love that she lets me touch her tender skin with my fangs, that she’s not afraid of me.
But she is afraid of something. She’s unable to relax, kissing me frantically like she’s trying to run from the phantom thing that’s chasing her. “Hey,” I say as my lips drag down her throat. I can’t help my groan when she arches atop me. “It’s alright. We’ve got all night. I’m not going anywhere.”
That tips it. Whatever she was running from finally catches her, choking a tearless sob from her lips. She’s horrified at the sound. Her whole body stiffens and she covers her face with her hands to hide her shame from me. “I’m sorry!”
Though I want nothing more than to ignore the things that might put a stop to this moonlit moment, her agony takes top billing and slows my seduction. “Blue eyes, what’s wrong?” My lips move to her forehead, and though I have no plans to leave my spot beneath her nearly-naked form, the
frantic nature of our connection turns tender as I run my finger over the apple of her cheek.
She shakes her head and tries to smile through what clearly looks to me like devastation. “Nothing at all. I’m glad you’re not going anywhere. I like you right here.” Her fingers glide over my thigh and then dig into the muscles, exciting my body to keep me from her heart. She’s playing dirty, hiding in plain sight on this precipice of bravery and cowering. But words turn into throaty moans of pleasure as she massages tension out of me I didn’t realize I had. I mean to tell her I love her, but I’m not sure she understands how significant that is.
Lily is limber and lean, which means when she straddles me, her long legs coil in ways a man can’t ignore. My good hand slides down her side, giving her shivers that drive her pelvis to rock atop mine. I want her so very badly, but our first time shouldn’t be outlined in worry, which I can still see tightening the corners of her eyes.
I flick her hip to stop her manic makeout. Then I roll to my right, dumping her beside me so I can nuzzle her nose as the lantern flickers on the far wall. There are just enough shadows on her face to keep me guessing, but the fragmented slivers of light let me know she needs more than just my body right now.
She needs me.
“Easy, Lil,” I say as our kisses slow into a languid and luxurious connection. It’s my turn to massage her, so I reach around for her butt. I love that she lets me loop my fingers under the lacy material so I can get that much closer to her. “You’re worried,” I observe. “Talk to me.”
“You don’t want to hear it.” She kisses me harder in an effort to run from the conversation. “I don’t want to feel it. Don’t make me say it.”
“Say what?”
“That I’m afraid. I don’t want to be afraid. I’m in bed with you. I just want to be here.”
I rub the wrinkle between her eyebrows. “I’ll still be just as lust-worthy tomorrow. What are you afraid of?”
She shivers, and I curse myself for not remembering how cold this place is in comparison to what her body was made for. I reach down and roll awkwardly to use my good arm to tug the comforter up over us, rubbing warmth into her spine under the covers. It’s as simple as that to get her to stop running and really lean into me. Her chilly fingers creep up the side of my neck. They feel small, and as she burrows into my chest, so does she. In this enormous mansion, it’s just the lantern and the two of us, hiding under the covers like children who have nothing but each other when the monsters under the bed come to snap at our ankles. She’s dainty in a way that suddenly seems breakable, so I remind myself to be the best kind of gentle with all the parts of her she’s entrusted to me.
Her leg stays looped around my hip, her lace-clad breasts pressed to my chest when she finally unburdens herself of all that’s been keeping her on edge. “It was a bear,” she confesses in a gust of angst. “A shifter bear who scarred my face. He was just a cub, but so was I back then. I was so scared. Even after Fiora took me in, I had nightmares for years.”
I want to kick myself for not putting that together sooner. Of course she’d be anxious in the place she was abandoned, dumped and then attacked. “I can imagine.” I kiss her nose and keep my body tight to hers, cupping her butt and thumbing the swell I covet above all else.
“I’m nervous here. I don’t want to be, but I can’t help it. I’m not supposed to be afraid of people I don’t know, people who’ve done nothing wrong to me, but I keep checking over my shoulder all the time, waiting for that bear to finish the job.” She shakes her head. “That sounds silly.”
“No, it doesn’t. It sounds like you’re very brave to be here. You should’ve told me you were this frightened. I took you outside to see the gardens. I wouldn’t have done that if I knew it made you uneasy.”
“Everything makes me uneasy when we’re apart. We weren’t meant to be separated, the four of us. I broke us.”
I kiss her lips once to remind her that not everything is broken. “One time when we were younger and figuring out how to hold on to each other while our territories were at war, we split like this. Salem’s people attacked the fae, and Alex took it to heart. Said he wouldn’t come back to us until the shifters were on their own soil again. We break on occasion,” I admit, thumbing her butt beneath the lace. I love this bit of her. “It’s part of being as close as we are, and carrying the weight we do. This isn’t on you. Alex gets touchy sometimes. He likes to be the swindler, not the one getting swindled.” When she flinches at my words, I kiss her nose. “It’s okay, blue eyes. We only just met a couple months ago. I don’t expect you to tell me your darkest secrets in so short a time. Alex will come around. Sometimes you have to give someone the time to ease into something that they didn’t grant you.”
She doesn’t cry, instead trusting me to hold her together while she teeters on the edge of falling apart. “Salem has a girlfriend,” she whispers. “I feel so icky and stupid. I thought… I’m younger than I realized, I guess, believing in first kisses and true loves and all that. This entire time, he’s had a girlfriend.”
I truly have no idea what Justice is on about, telling Lily something as daft as that. “I’ll sort it all out in the morning. There is no other woman. I don’t know why Justice would say that to you, other than to drive you away.”
“Then where is Salem?” Of course, she asks the one thing I don’t know. Git’s been gone ever since supper ended. “I shouldn’t have pushed him about asking me to marry him. Why did I say that?”
“Because you’re a grown woman who wants to be treated like one. You did nothing wrong or even all that risky. Salem needed the sharp slap of reality. For all his brains on the battlefield, he has no idea what he’s doing with women.”
“Then where is he?”
“Salem stepped out for a while, is all. He’s been away from Jacoba for weeks, blue eyes. He’s the commander of the shifter army. He’s got to check in, do his job. I know he wanted to make sure your father was properly locked up and all, too. And if he says he’s checking on the northern border, then that’s where he is.”
“This is the closest I’ve lived to my father since I was a child.” She shivers against me, and my stupid right arm can do nothing about it, useless as it is, so I run my left hand up and down her bicep. “I don’t like it.”
My hand drifts lower and coils around her butt protectively. I love this part of her. “I don’t like it, either.” I adore the way her skin feels against mine. Like I’m her warm thing when life threatens to turn her cold. “Tell me more.”
“I know it’s irrational, but I keep worrying that at any moment, the bear cub from sixteen years ago is going to come bursting through that door. Then the second I talk myself out of that, the image of General Klein barreling through to steal me away from my home bombards me.”
My lips curve up in half a smile. “See? That’s progress. You’re thinking of this place as your home.”
She shoots me a wry look laced with attitude. “That’s only because you’re here.”
My chest expands with pride. “One day, those fears will get smaller. Until then, I’m right here.”
“It’s not this place,” she tells me, snuggling in closer. “It’s you. You’re my home, Des.”
Her declaration floods me with pride that’s mixed with a peace I didn’t realize I’d been lacking. My lips find hers, indulging in the long and luxurious kiss we both need. “Then I’ll make sure no one takes you away from me,” I promise.
I leave her only long enough to lock the door and slide the chest of drawers in front of it. I’m not worried about anything coming in the night, but the second I take her fears seriously, I see her relax against the pillow.
“That should do it. Now we can get some sleep.”
Lily’s nearly naked form curls around mine, and if there’s an inch between us, I don’t feel it. My hips are married to hers, her leg over my waist to claim my body. Her breasts are nestled to my chest, and when her lashes finally flutter shut, my
heart promises her things in the dark that I know will hold true in the daylight.
As long as I’m around, my wife will be safe.
12
A Mother’s Advice
Alexavier
How I became the heavy drinker in the group, I’ll never know. Ever since Lily came around, Des doesn’t get drunk nearly as much. Yet here I am, downing my fifth cocktail of the night because my vision’s started to clear.
I don’t want to see things unblurred. They sting too badly, and there’s no end in sight. I slouch in my ivorum chair on the balcony, replaying all the reasons I’m angry with Lily, because I keep forgetting them the lonelier I get for her. For all of them, really. The guys and I rarely fight, but when we do, it feels like this—hollow and sad with a note of dread. I’ve learned most of those things can be cured with alcohol, but today my melancholy is only made worse by the stuff.
“You should slow down, Alexavier,” Mother says as she joins me on the balcony, sitting a few feet away in the spare chair. She’s a much more graceful drunk than I am. Then again, she’s got more practice with the art. “Whatever you’re running from, you can’t outdrink it.”
I scoff. “You’re one to talk.”
Mother’s eyes cut to me. “Then learn from my experience. I’m still your mother.”
“You let Father talk about my wife like she’s beneath us. You knew he never intended on letting us marry. If saying nothing is being my mother, then you’re an excellent one, that’s shore sure.” Yeah, I’m an ass when I’m drunk, especially when I slur my words without meaning to.
Mother goes silent, which is worse than being yelled at. I’m being Father to her, running her down because she says things I don’t like. I shut her up with my words, just like him.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” I admit, rubbing my forehead.